


I'd Give Anything Now, to Kill Those Words For You (It Hurts So Much to Hurt You)

by CaptainAwesome242



Series: Iron Dad Bingo Prompts [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, End Aunt May Erasure, Fights, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad Bingo 2019, May Parker is a badass, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 20:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18858667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAwesome242/pseuds/CaptainAwesome242
Summary: Prompt - Car Crash“We now go to our reporter on the scene, Kristen what can you tell us?”Peter’s heart was crushed in an ice cold vice as the screen changed and behind the reporter was Tony’s car. He recognised it as Tony’s by the loud orange colour. It wasn’t recognisable as a car.~~~Tony is badly injured in a car crash after a fight with Peter, who worries he’ll never get the chance to apologise





	I'd Give Anything Now, to Kill Those Words For You (It Hurts So Much to Hurt You)

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back with another one! This one isn’t as fluffy or cute as the first two but hopefully you’ll love it all the same...
> 
> Title taken from Forgive Me by Evanescence

“What the hell were you thinking!?” Tony demanded, “No, I’ll answer that, you weren’t,”

“I was thinking!” Peter retorted angrily, “I was thinking of all the people who were gonna get hurt if I didn’t stop them!”  

He was glad the stony silence was over and he could finally let Tony have a piece of his mind, but right now that was the only thing he was glad about. Being sat in the Medbay being patched up after a mission gone wrong was enough to really piss a guy off.

“You should have been thinking about calling for back-up!” Tony exclaimed, his eyes wide and furious, “We’ve talked about this! If things get dicey You. Call. Me. Is that too hard for you to understand?”

Peter had never seen Mr Stark so angry at him before, not even after the incident with the ferry, but in the moment he found that he didn’t care - he hadn’t done anything wrong, it was Tony who’d messed everything up.

“I’m not stupid!” said Peter, hotly, “I understand it fine! But you wouldn’t have gotten there in time before they started shooting—”

“—Not the point!” Tony cut him off loudly, “The  _second_  you realised these guys were out of your league you should have called me!”

“They were _not_  out of my league! I had it under control!” Peter defended, his voice also rising. He was so  _sick_ of being considered incapable!

“Clearly! That’s why you’re injured and half the criminals got away!”

Peter’s arm throbbed painfully as the medic cleaned the wound but he suppressed a wince. He would not show weakness. He would NOT prove Mr Stark right.

“Only because you stopped me from going after them! Now they got away and I have no idea where they went and it’s  _your_ fault!”

Tony’s eyes flashed dangerously, “My fault!?  _You’re_ the one who didn’t call for back up!  _You’re_ the one who went blundering in anyway and got himself shot!”

“Yeah, in the arm, I could still have gone after them and—“

“And what? Gotten shot in the face cause you can’t defend yourself properly with a gunshot wound? Those weren’t your run of the mill bike thieves you know, they were two rival gangs in the middle of a gang war!” 

Peter growled, “Stop treating me like I’m a stupid kid! I was doing this way before you came along, you know! I know what I’m doing!”

“You coulda fooled me! It’s a miracle you haven’t been killed already with your complete disregard for your own safety!”

“Well I’m not dead, am I? I’m fine!” Peter stood, getting in Tony’s face.

“Only because I came and saved your ass!” Tony yelled right back, unfazed by Peter’s proximity, “If I hadn’t come you can bet your ass you’d be lying dead in the street right now!”

Peter scoffed snidely, “Oh, I forgot, it’s all about you, isn’t it!”

“Watch it, kid,” Tony said quietly, voice sharp as steel.

Peter either didn’t hear the tone or didn’t acknowledge it, “It doesn’t even matter to you that I could have taken those guys out, all that matters is  _Iron Man_ was the one to save the day! Well guess what, Spider-Man is just as capable of stopping crime without being such a glory-hound about it!”

Tony’s lips thinned, “You think I give a shit about who the press think stopped the shoot out? All I care about is that you didn’t ask for help when you should have and you got hurt because of it,”

Peter glared, “Why do you always assume I need help? Why am I the only one you feel the need to monitor every waking hour of the day? You don’t do it for anyone else, you’re only ever breathing down  _my_ neck and I’m sick of it! _I don’t need you!_ ”

There was a pause.

The pair of them stood, eyes locked and breathing heavily. Just as the weight of what Peter said finally hit him Tony looked away, up towards the ceiling. 

“FRIDAY, deactivate all protocols and monitors relating to Peter Parker and to Spider-Man,”

_“Are you sure, Boss?”_

“Positive,” Tony said certainly, eyes finding Peter’s again. 

Peter felt his skin prickle at the intensity of Tony’s gaze and he struggled not to fidget. 

“Finish up with the medic and then feel free to make your own way home,” Tony said dismissively as he turned on his heel and sauntered away, the tension in his shoulders the only crack in his uncaring facade. 

Peter watched his retreating back until the door shut behind him. Only then did the trembling begin. 

“Hey, you better let me finish cleaning that, you don’t want it to get infected,”

The touch of the medic’s hand on his shoulder was enough to finally jerk Peter out of his daze. His breaths became shallow as his eyes darted around the room for the exit, and the medic didn’t stop him as he sprinted for the door. He unbunched the mask that had been clenched in his fist and slid it on as he ran for the roof, taking the stairs three at a time. 

Swinging home with an injured arm was difficult but Peter barely paid it any mind, his thoughts were spiralling like a tornado around his head and he struggled to finish one thought before the next began. 

_I was in the right here._

_Wasn’t I?_

_Yes, of course I was. I’m sick of being treated like a kid all the time!_

_Mr Stark was only trying to help..._

_But he made everything worse! I could have totally taken those guys out by myself._

_...could I though?_

Peter landed in the alley and quickly changed into his civvies before walking the short distance to his apartment. A sinking feeling, as tangible as a rock, sat heavily in his gut as he remembered the look on Tony’s face when he’d told him he didn’t need him. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that at all, he’d just wanted Tony to take him seriously. 

And now he’d probably never talk to him again.

“Peter?” May called from the kitchen. 

Peter hadn’t even realised he’d made it into the apartment yet. He couldn’t move as May rounded the corner, her smile dropping instantly as she looked at her nephew.

“Peter? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I- I really screwed up,” Peter choked, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

May immediately folded him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his trembling frame as he sobbed into her shoulder, “Shh, it’s okay, whatever it is we can fix it, okay?”

Peter shook his head, crying harder.

May sighed sadly. She pulled away and held Peter by his arms, letting go as he hissed in pain. 

“What hurts?” May asked gently, but her tone warned him not to lie.

“Arm. Bullet grazed it,” 

May rolled his sleeve up, inspecting the injury. She didn’t look happy, but Peter was surprised at how easily she took him getting shot in her stride. As much as he’d tried to keep her from finding out about Spider-Man, it was such a relief that she finally knew. 

“It looks like you’re healing’s taken care of the worst of it but I still think we should get this properly checked out. Let’s go to the tower and get Tony’s people to—“

“No, no, I was just there,” Peter protested.

May’s face darkened, “And he didn’t help you?”

“No, no! He did, but I left,” Peter hiccuped, trailing off as his shoulders shook with a fresh wave of sobs.

“Okay,” May conceded, leading Peter to the couch, “I’m going to clean this and you’re going to tell me what’s going on, alright?”

Peter nodded jerkily as May left for the kitchen, giving him a moment to collect himself as she gathered the supplies. 

Once she came back and began cleaning his wound he started talking, haltingly at first but soon the words were tumbling out of his mouth so fast he kept tripping over them. He told May everything, from his encounter with the gangs to Tony’s intervention to the blow up between himself and his mentor.

“...and I didn’t mean it May, I really didn’t but you should have seen his face, he’s never gonna talk to me again,” Peter cried, burying his damp face in his hands.

May pulled him to her again, the two of them cuddled on the sofa, “Oh, of course he will. You were both mad and you both said some things you didn’t mean—“

“He did mean it! He turned off all the protocols; he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore!”

“I’m sure he was just trying to make a point, he’ll turn them back on again,”

Peter said nothing, sniffling quietly. May could have all the hope she wanted because she hadn’t seen the look on Tony’s face. She hadn’t seen the betrayal shining in his eyes, the hurt wrinkling the lines on his forehead, the pained acceptance in the set of his mouth.

May rubbed his good arm soothingly, “It’ll all look better in the morning. Why don’t you go and get some sleep, you’ve got school tomorrow,”

Peter hugged May tightly once more before shuffling through to his room and flopping onto the bed. It took a while, but eventually he cried himself to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Despite what May had promised the night before, things only seemed worse the next morning. The clear light of day only highlighted to Peter how childishly he’d acted, and how ungrateful he’d been - Mr Stark had done so much for him and he’d only been trying to help him. How thrilled would he have been a few years ago to have been fighting side-by-side with Iron Man, and now he’d thrown it all back in the man’s face.

Peter was glad May had already left for work so she wouldn’t see him skipping breakfast; he wasn’t sure his churning stomach would keep it down.

The day passed him by in a blur. He’d been acting purely on muscle memory when moving between classes and he couldn’t honestly remember what subjects he’d had that morning. He had far more pressing things to worry about, like how he’d apologise to Tony if the man would even agree to listen to him which, if Peter were honest with himself, the chances of happening were slim to none.

He sighed, moving his food despondently around his plate with a fork. He still didn’t feel like eating, but he’d already been committed to the lunch queue before he realised where he was.

A movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention to Ned as he sat down next to him, “Dude, that chem test was brutal, what did you get for— hey, what’s up?”

Peter sighed, quietly telling Ned about last night. He didn’t really want to go through it again but he knew how persistent Ned could be, and honestly Peter really didn’t want to have to listen to him get excited about what he’d be doing next time he saw Tony Stark. There wouldn’t be a next time.

“I feel awful Ned, you should have seen his face,”

“Why don’t you just go talk to him?”

“Are you crazy? With the way I yelled at him he’s never gonna wanna see me again,” Peter moped.

“You don’t know that. You said he was yelling too, he probably feels just as bad as you do,”

Peter said nothing, shaking his head sadly as his eyes began to well up again.

“Come on, man, you don’t know until you try,” Ned said, but when Peter didn’t say anything else he turned to his own lunch. He knew better than to keep talking when Peter was like this.

It was only when the whole cafeteria started chattering and pointing at the small TV on the wall that Ned glanced to the screen. He gasped loudly, elbowing Peter to get him to look. 

Peter flinched irritably before his eyes flicked to the screen, widening in horror as his spoon clattered to the table.

The headline read: _Tony Stark in Car Crash_

_“...collided with another car in Queens at 10 o’clock this morning. The tech giant has been airlifted to hospital where he is apparently in a critical condition,”_

Peter started trembling.

_“We now go to our reporter on the scene, Kristen what can you tell us?”_

Peter’s heart was crushed in an icy vice as the screen changed and behind the reporter was Tony’s car. He recognised it as Tony’s by the loud orange colour. It wasn’t recognisable as a car.

_“Yes, as you can see behind me, the damage to the car was fairly devastating and we can only imagine how Tony Stark himself is faring in hospital. From what we’re hearing, it seems the other car ran a red light and hit Tony’s car about 20 miles over the speed limit. At the moment we’re unsure as to what Tony was doing in the Queens area, but...”_

The rushing in Peter’s ears stopped him from hearing anymore as he scrambled out of his seat. He tripped over Ned’s backpack but didn’t stop, pushing himself up off the floor and fleeing as fast as he could to the bathrooms. He burst into the first available stall and emptied what little food he’d managed to stomach into the toilet, tears running down his cheeks and drool dribbling down his chin. 

It was his fault. It was his fault. It was his fault! Oh god! It was his fault!

“Peter?” Ned called, cautiously entering the stall. He crouched down beside his friend and placed his hand on his back.

“I-I-I-I-“ Peter stuttered, breaths coming far too fast as sobs bubbled up from his core.

“Breathe Peter,” Ned instructed, though he sounded pretty panicked himself.

“It’s a-all my fau-au-ault!” Peter choked out, covering his face with shaking hands.

“No, it’s not!” Ned insisted, sounding a lot surer this time.

“It is! I-if I’d just ap-apologised, he w-wouldn’t have- have been coming here- and—“

Ned wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders, “Peter, you don’t know he was coming to see you,” 

“Wh-at else would he be d-doing in Qu-Queens, Ned?” Peter sobbed, “I should- I should have—“

“Don’t blame yourself Peter, there’s nothing you could have done,”

“I’ve gotta, I’ve gotta go,” Peter scrambled to his feet, “I’ve gotta see him,”

“Peter...”

“Just tell the teachers I went home sick,” Peter demanded, pulling his phone from his pocket as he ran through the hallways, leaving Ned standing alone in the bathrooms.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Peter muttered repeatedly until the man picked up, “Happy?”

“Hey kid,” Happy answered, sounding stressed and worried, “I guess you saw the news,”

“Is he okay?” Peter asked desperately.

The sigh that came down the line sent a shot of pure dread down Peter’s spine, “He’s in surgery now. It’s not as bad as the press are making it seem, but it’s not good,”

Peter couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his lips, “What hospital?” he asked in a wobbly voice.

“No, tell me where you are, I’ll come get you,” Happy said, and Peter could hear the rustling and crackling of movement on the other end of the line.

“I’m down the street from my school, I ditched,” Peter told him unrepentantly.

“Hang tight, I’ll be there in a minute,”

“Drive safe!” Peter couldn’t help but add, hating how small and scared his voice sounded.

“Of course,” Happy said quietly, dropping the call.

 

* * *

 

Once Happy had picked him up and told him of Tony’s condition the rest of the ride was spent in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Even as they sat next to each other in the waiting room neither spoke a word, until Peter realised who was missing.

“Where’s Pepper?”

Happy cleared his throat, “She’s on her way. She was in a board meeting in Japan, her flight should get in some time tomorrow,”

Peter nodded, eyes dropping to his hands where they sat fiddling in his lap.

“He forgave you, you know,” 

Peter’s bloodshot eyes flicked to meet Happy’s red-rimmed ones, searching for any trace of a lie. He came up empty, but still didn’t trust in the words.

“No, he didn’t,” he murmured.

“He did. He bitched for about an hour after you left before he turned all the protocols back on. He was never gonna leave you without knowing where you were or if you were in trouble, no matter how pissed off you were with each other,”

They were silent for a moment, allowing the words to sink in.

“I didn’t mean it,” Peter said dejectedly.

“I know, kid, and Tony knows too,”

Peter said nothing, and Happy didn’t press him.

The silence was broken only by the ticking of the clock as they waited.

 

* * *

 

It was dark by the time they were given an update and allowed in to see him. 

Peter insisted Happy go in first. After all they’d known each other longer, and if Tony happened to wake up at least it would be to a face he’d want to see. Happy had been uncertain but eventually conceded, following the doctor down the hall.

As he sat alone in the guest room Peter felt himself breathing slightly easier, even as his stomach continued to churn. The doctor had told them that Tony had been incredibly lucky, avoiding both brain and spinal injury. He’d broken his left arm and leg in multiple places and rumbled his organs around a little but nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few weeks - Tony would make a full recovery.

The news was music to Peter’s ears. Now all he had to worry about was whether the man would ever want to talk to him again.

His turn to visit Tony came around sooner than expected, and even though he steeled himself for what he’d see he still hissed in a gasp through clenched teeth.

Tony had his left limbs elevated and encased in thick casts as expected but the deep purple, almost black, bruising mottled down his face came as a shock. Logically, Peter knew it was to be expected, but it still pained him to see his mentor this way.

He stood awkwardly for a moment before perching on the edge of the hard plastic seat. Time ticked by and he said nothing, wringing his fingers until his knuckles clicked.

He cleared his throat. No words came.

He tried again.

“I... uh,”

He took a deep breath.

“I... you know, I thought this would be easier if you were asleep but I’d rather you just woke up,”

Peter waited. The monitors beeped and hummed, but Tony didn’t stir.

He sighed, “I don’t... um, I don’t know if, if you can hear me but I need to apologise. I was being a jerk and I do appreciate your help, honest I do but...”

Peter trailed off, trying to keep his breathing stable, “... and it seems so stupid now but, I just wanted to prove myself, you know? Iron Man’s taken down so many big bad guys and I just wanted... I wanted Spider-Man to be... well I just wanted to be like you. I know you didn’t want that but...”

He took a shaky breath, using the back of his hands to scrub the moisture from his eyes, “I didn’t mean what I said. I really didn’t, I was just angry and I was trying to hurt you and if I could take it all back then I would... b-but I can’t, and I’m s-so sorry!”

Peter buried his face in his hands, trying vainly to quell the sobs, “I’m sorry I y-yelled and I’m sorry I said I d-didn’t need you cause it’s not true and I’m sorry I didn’t get to say sorry before this!”

If Peter had been looking, he’d have seen Tony’s eyelids flicker open, glassy eyes sliding to look at him.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me anymore I just, I had to say sorry first,” Peter hiccuped, “I’ll leave now, I won’t come back but just... just get better, alright?”

He stood shakily on wobbly knees but as he turned to leave a hand, weak but familiar all the same, latched onto his wrist. Peter whipped around, eyes meeting Tony’s, or at least the one that _wasn’t_ swollen shut. 

“P’tr,” Tony croaked.

“Mr Stark! Are you alright? Do you want me to get the nurse? Or—“

“Peter,” Tony repeated, slightly stronger.

“Yeah?” Peter said cautiously.

Tony swallowed painfully, “Stay,”

Peter’s heart clenched, hope and trepidation swelling his chest in equal measure.

“Okay,” he squeaked, lowering himself back into the chair and waiting silently. It didn’t escape his notice that Tony’s hand was still clasped around his wrist, holding onto him like a lifeline.

“Peter, I heard what you said, and—“

“—I’m so sorry, Mr Stark,” Peter interrupted, unable to contain himself, “I really didn’t mean it and it was a horrible thing to say and—“

A gentle pressure on his wrist and a “Hey,” from Tony was all it took to get him to stop.

“It’s okay, Peter, I’m sorry too,” 

“Y-you... what?” Peter asked, dumbfounded, “you don’t have to be sorry,”

“I turned the protocols back on,” Tony admitted, “basically as soon as you left. Look, I may have been mad at you kid but I’d never give up on you, and I’m sorry I made it seem like I did, that wasn’t fair,”

“N-no, it’s okay,” Peter stammered, “I was way out of line,”

“Yeah, you were,” Tony agreed, “I’m not gonna pretend that you weren’t, but I’m also not gonna pretend that I’m a saint in all this. I shouldn’t have started yelling I just... you scared the shit out of me. The bullet grazed your arm and all I could think of was how much worse it could have been, how I could have lost you,”

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered, tears spilling over at the hurt look on Tony’s face.

“Me too. So we good?”

Peter nodded frantically, “Mm-hm,”

Tony released Peter’s wrist and lifted his arm, “Then get over here,”

Peter wasted no time in going in for the hug, careful not to jostle Tony’s injuries as he wedged himself in the small space between Tony and the edge of the bed.

“Love you, kid,” Tony murmured tiredly, pressing a kiss into Peter’s curls.

“I love you too, Mr Stark,” Peter’s voice was muffled as his face was pressed into the older man’s chest, but Tony heard him nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

A short while later as the pair of them slept, May and Happy shared a relieved look from the doorway, pleased that their boys had made up and both would be fighting fit and causing havoc again before they knew it.

 


End file.
